Sumach School for Secondary Characters: Year One
by silent seabreeze
Summary: What happens to characters after their book ends? Why, they get sent to School of course! Welcome to Sumach Secondary School, we hope you have a pleasent year.
1. Welcome

Dear Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirwood,

We are delighted to inform you that you have been accepted at Sumach School for Secondary Characters. As you have come to an end of your book/film Lord of the Rings it is time to move on to another place.

The school term begins on 6th September. The train leaves at 9 o'clock from The Station. Please be prompt and arrive on time.

You will find attached all the information you will need. Please send a reply no later than the 16th August with your consent.

We look forward to seeing you at the start of term.

Yours Sincerely

The Headmistresses

Sumach School for Secondary Characters

Hello and welcome to Sumach School. We hope that your time with us shall be rewarding.

Sumach strives to bring the best education to secondary characters (chiefly from First books).

Our basic syllabus is:

English language and Literature

Mathematics

Languages (this includes English, French, Spanish, Italian, German, Gobbledegook and Latin. Those who wish to study Gobbledegook must include a letter within their reply notifying the teachers of their choice. For those students of an Elvish descent, we regret to inform you that it shall not be taught as a language)

Physical Education (this includes gymnastics, netball, swimming, rugby, cricket, Quidditch, rounders, dance and adventure sports)

Science (which includes Physics, Chemistry and Biology)

Geography

Art & Design

Design & Technology

Drama (there shall be a performance at the end of the school year in which we expect all pupils to take part)

Music

History

Information Technology

Magic

(Please note that all these subjects (with the exception of magic) are mandatory until Year 10)

Pupils will receive their timetables at the start of their school year.

Uniforms

Sumach School has an obligatory uniform of a tunic, trousers and cloak for boys and girls. They may be in any colour, but there are to be NO suggestive images/themes. For those girls whose books do not allow trousers, dresses will be acceptable. Please note that dresses are not to be shorter than the knee.

Equipment

The School shall provide any stationary items needed, but pupils are asked to bring their own:

Notebooks

Bags (big enough to carry all schoolbooks)

Pupils are also reminded that, as a boarding school, they shall need to bring all items that they need from home. You are asked to bring:

Nightwear (please note that it is to be of an appropriate size)

Clothes to be worn outside of school hours

Washing items (toothbrush, hairbrush, flannel, towel, etc etc)

Swimming costume (for lessons and matches)

Reading books

Other items may also be brought with consent of the school and student's parents.

Out of School hours

Sumach School has many pleasant and relaxing grounds in which students may spend their free time. At specific weekends, they will be allowed to visit the nearby village of Sumach.

There are also many extra-curricular activities that take place within the school which the students are encouraged to take part in. They start running in the second week of term and are run by older students and teachers.

Thank you for choosing Sumach School as your Secondary School of choice. We look forward to seeing you at the start of the new school year on the 6th of September.

Until then, goodbye.


	2. Compartment Five

**Authors' Note: Tess waves hello to their reviewer, Kates Master's Sister and thanks her for reviewing. She glares at others who didn't and then moves on.**

**She says that her fellow authoresses are not yet online, but she thinks they would agree with her when they say that they own none of the books/films/characters. She also stresses that characters are taken from different points in their books. Eg. Legolas and the hobbits do not yet know each other. She says this is because they can have fun building up rivalries, romances and such.**

**She now bids readers to read on and then press the little review button at the end to let them knoew what they think. That is all**

* * *

**Compartment Five**

_In which we are intorduced to our characters, an incident involving a stuck-up indivudual, a wand and a fight occurs and an enemy is made_

The station was loud and busy. Many students pushed and shoved this way and that to get onto the train, most carrying heavy trunks or suitcases. The noise was thunderous, the train adding to the racket as it whistled shrilly, sending plumes of thick smoke into the air.

A young girl of about thirteen could be seen in the heaving crowd. Her fair hair was tied back and there was a faraway expression in her blue eyes. She carried a heavy, battered trunk, on which was written in neat letters 'Meggie Folchart, Sumach Secondary School'.

She reached train and climbed aboard, finding an empty compartment in a matter of minutes and sitting down, she pulled a worn and well-thumbed book from the trunk and promptly buried her nose in it.

A few minutes later, she was disturbed by a cough and looked up to see three figures standing in the doorway. She looked at them inquiringly.

"We were, um, wondering," the girl began "whether there was anyone sitting there?" She gestured to the empty seats. Meggie had to concede that there was no-one sitting there and soon, the three others, their trunks stowed above them and the suspicious cage that one of the boys carried placed carefully on one of the other seats, were settled opposite.

There followed a rather embarrassed silence, before the girl who had spoken broke it.

"Is that _'A Practical Guide to the Dragon Species of the World'_?" she asked, pointing to the cover of the book that Meggie held in her hands.

Meggie nodded and said "But I don't think it covers all the basic species. It completely misses out the Ice-capped second-winged foot-clawed minor dragonlets of the tip of Everest. Not to mention the sand stalker second lizard-drop minor species dragons of the Sahara"

"No! Really?" Soon the two girls were embroiled in a heated discussion of the merits of the book, completely ignoring the two boys, who exchanged knowing glances and settled down to the knowledge that this would be a long, boring train ride. Something they had got used to.

In a compartment further up the train, another group sat introducing themselves. A girl with magnificent chestnut curls, pale skin and breathtaking violet eyes was introducing herself to one with waist-length wavy blonde hair and grey eyes. A boy sat with them too. Though they both seemed to be ignoring him, he did not seem to mind, busy as he was flicking through a stained and battered notebook, covered in marbled paper.

"Yes, Silvia, my mother works up at the School, doesn't she Luciano?" the violet-eyes girl was saying. The boy looked up "Hmm? Oh, yes, Silvia. Rodolfo does as well."

The other girl appeared very interested. "Oh, that's good. You must have been there before then. I've never been. It sounds very exciting." She looked at them questioningly. The violet-eyed girl did not waste any time with her answer.

"Oh it's _beautiful_," she enthused "It's built on a cliff top, so to one side, all you see is this valley filled with lush green forest and sparkling rivers. There is a natural pool there as well- one of the rivers flows into a sort of round basin and fills a rock pool with fresh water. Silvia says it's gorgeous in the summer- crystal-clear and deliciously cold."

The blonde girl nodded "Sounds good. I look forward to getting there. I've never tried swimming before. Have they any stables there, or horses?"

The girl paused "I think so. I've never had much of an interest in horses. In Belezza, we have canals and mandoliers to transport us. We've never had much call for horses."

And so the conversation went on.

Presently, there was a knock on the door and two male heads poked around it. The two girls noticed first that one of them (blonde hair, two long strands falling into blue eyes) was very cute, second that the other (young, pale, dark hair) looked rather sweet and that both were already dressed in their uniforms. The blonde was wearing a blue and silver combo and the sweet one was dressed in a green/silver colour scheme.

"Hi," the blonde one started "We were wondering if we could sit in here. Everywhere else seems full."

"Of course," the blonde girl smiled graciously and gestured to the empty seats opposite them. The two boys nodded their thanks and lugged their suitcases in, dropping them onto the floor and flopping into the seats, the smaller one sighing theoretically.

If you looked at them more closely, you would see that they seemed very similar. It wasn't very obvious, much like the way that siblings tend to look like each other, although they are completely different.

It was an odd form of nature, which would not be explained until much later in the year, but for now, we shall get back to the compartments.

Leave Compartment No. 2, travel down the corridor a little way and you would come upon one from which emitted many loud shouts and a fair bit of laughter.

Four small figures could be seen through the misty glass in the door and, when said door was opened, you would be able to see who they were.

The four figures were, in fact, male, and seemed to be very happy about something. They had all embraced one with a sweet face, curly dark hair and wide, innocent, disarming blue eyes.

"We all thought you had left at the end of Book Three!" one was saying "We never knew you were coming here!"

The blue-eyed one he was addressing laughed "Well, I saw you were all applying here and I couldn't resist. It's great to see you all again."

In the corner of the compartment, going entirely unnoticed by the others, sat a slim figure reading a book. From the writing on the cover, you would assume that they were elvish and in that assumption, you would be right.

The book was lowered and two bright eyes glared at the originators of the noise. He continued with this glaring for several minutes, until it became clear that it was not having any effect, at which time he flicked his carefully done-up blonde hair over his shoulder in a definite girly way and went back to reading.

This, for the sake of not confusing anyone, shall now be called Compartment 3.

Make your way out of Compartment 3 and you would be confronted by a beautiful elf-maiden. Her eyes were a storm-grey and her hair a radiant river of rippling black that flowed down her back and down to her waist. She seemed to have opted for the dress over the tunic and was wearing stunning light green example, silver embroidery adorning the neckline and hem.

She had paused outside another compartment and knocked. Said knocked being answered by a loud call of "Yes?" she opened the door.

"Excuse me, is there any space?" she enquired in a soft, clear voice.

Evidently there was, because she vanished inside.

So, that is Compartment 4.

The last compartment, astonishingly called Compartment 5, was located about several compartments down from No. 4. It held within it two people who were, at that point, glaring daggers at each other.

One of the occupants was a teenage girl. She had long, dark hair and brown eyes, which, at that moment, were engaged in narrowed glaring at the other occupant.

Said other was a boy, pale faced, grey eyed and greasy-haired. He was currently occupied with gazing disdainfully out of the window, glancing back at her every now and again to sneer contemptuously.

The silence was broken by a sharp tap on the door and a head poked around it. It was a girl with brightly coloured dark red hair; white and black streaks marking the front. She had not changed yet; she was still dressed in her own clothes; a tight T-shirt and shorts. A boy stood with her.

"Can we sit there?" she asked, pointing to the empty seats available. Hearing no objections, she flopped down, the boy following suit. They looked expectantly at the two others.

The girl turned pointedly away from the boy and to them and the boy in turn sniffed and pulled a pad of paper and pen out. For the next part of the journey, he occupied himself with scribbling notes down and pointedly ignored his fellow passengers. They, happily, returned the favour and so there were no major injuries. Yet.

If we turn our attention back to Compartment 1, we will notice that we have three new people sitting down. One was a man, currently occupied with lighting matches and eating them, and a boy; Egyptian by the look of him, who was occupied with joining the argument the girls were having and telling them that they were completely wrong in their ideals and listing several reasons why. None of their companions could understand them, mainly because the conversation now seemed to be taking place in German, which all three sides of the argument could speak perfectly. The third new arrival was a man sitting fast asleep in the corner, a tricorn hat pushed down over his face, snoring uproariously and eliciting more than a few annoyed glances.

The two boys, one which had bright red hair and freckles, the other messy black hair and glasses, were engaged in some sort of debate over the rules of a game called Quidditch, something that no-one else but them understood.

As a result, confusion reigned in Compartment 1 and so, to save our reader's ears, we shall progress onto Compartment No. 2, in which the violet-eyed girl and the blonde-haired girl had progressed onto the topic of (inexplicably), Drama. There was another new person in this compartment as well. He had hair that brushed his shoulders and a small beard and moustache. He was occupied with gazing out of the window at something. No-one disturbed him, mainly due to the long, heavy sword he had sitting innocuously above his head, in easy reach. He did not seem to want to spear anybody with it just yet, though. Which was good.

That is all fine and dandy and much the same atmosphere was present in Compartment 3, in which the small people (Hobbits, they are sometimes called), had embarked on a conversation about food; one of their favourite topics and one they knew much about.

One of the small, hairy footed people turned to talk to the girlish looking male hidden behind the book.

"Legolas, have you any knowing of any type of beef stew?" The hobbit asked. The book lowered to reveal a dark eyed glower.

"I'm bound to the law of the Elves," He said snobbishly, tossing his hair again. "I don't consume meat. So, by me not consuming meat, I wouldn't know of any beef stews." He finished the final comment with a raised eye brow, before returning the book to it's rightful place. In front of his face. The hobbit looked slightly taken aback, before he flinched as the book lowered again.

"How do you know my name, hobbit?" Legolas asked, the eye brows now twisted in some weird elfish way that is too complicated to describe.

"Um, well, it's stated on your quiver." The hobbit replied, pointing at the delicately made quiver, where a plain sticker was stuck. "Look, it says right there. '_This belongs to Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood, please return if found' _It's in plain sight, you know." Legolas growled and twisted the quiver so that the sticker was hidden, before returning haughtily to his book, his shoulders hunched and his eyes narrowed to the point where he couldn't read...which then made the whole point of reading the book...completely pointless.

Further down the train, in Compartment 4 to be exact, it was more quiet and calm than the rest of the train. Where the beautiful elf-maiden was seated was next to the window, next to a man with a dark hair and beard, who was looking somewhat distant in thought. Opposite her sat another man, with long dark hair hung messily round his shoulders and his dark, deep eyes were staring out of the window, searching the skies for some unknown creature or threat. Sat next to him was obviously the brother of the bearded man, who also took the style of having a beard. Both of them seemed to enjoy wearing their hair long, though it seemed grizzled and greasy, even though if someone had the bravery to touch one of their heads, they would find that it was actually quite smooth. This brother, however, held a piece of paper in his hand and seemed to be writing something down, which the elf-maid couldn't see, if she had wanted to see it, seeing as, like most of the people on the train, she was reading a book, gently turning the pages as her storm-grey eyes flowed over the worn words of the page.

On the end of the seat of where the elf-maid and the bearded man sat, was a young man, with long-ish golden hair. He was near sleep, though he kept his eyes open, as though he was alert, waiting for something bad to happen. This was a habit born of a life of danger; something you cannot blame him for.

In Compartment Five, there were more new arrivals, two girls and a boy, all of whom had changed into the uniform. One girl (tall, with a slim figure, curly brown hair, brown eyes and very white teeth. This is strange as, where her period of story comes from, toothpaste hasn't even been invented yet, but such is the tale of 'artistic licence'), was wearing a forest-green and cream tunic and trousers. The other girl had stayed in a dress, opting for a striking red and black variation. The boy was dressed in a dark blue and silver tunic/trouser combo, creating the overall effect of a midnight sky (not that that's bad, of course).

The girls had been conversing for some time now on the subject of animals, brought about by the fact that the girl dressed in black and red had a cat curled up on her lap, which was regarding all in the compartment with eerie wisdom. No-one had yet touched him though, save the girl, there was a strong sense that it wasn't allowed.

The boy in dark blue and silver (and very uncomfortable he looked about it too) also had an animal perched on him, this one a bird; a nightingale. It seemed tame, but it gave off the same uncomfortable aura as the cat. This wasn't a mere bird. It was _human_.

* * *

Now, I would like to say that the train journey passed very uneventfully and that, in fact, the first-years were a mature and sensible bunch and were above petty rivalries and fights. I would like to say so, but then I would lie. 

It happened about halfway through the journey and it involved two individuals from Compartment No. 5. The results were…pretty nasty and shocked even the others in the same compartment, who had witnessed the build-up.

It has already been made clear that the black-haired and weasel-faced individuals in No. 5 did not like each other. This was due to an insult paid to the female by the male earlier. It cannot be confirmed exactly _what _said insult was, but it concerned the words 'Mudblood', 'low intelligence' and 'girlish inclinations'. We shall leave it to the audience's imaginations as to how these words fitted together to form such an insult that ensured such a hatred, but be assured, it was pretty nasty.

The topic of animals and pets had been left aside and they were now conversing on the topic of weapons. One (the brown-haired girl in cream and green) was holding forth on the topic of swords, another (the one with the brightly-coloured hair) was agreeing with her and the dark-haired individual who had been so venomously insulted earlier in the journey, instead focused on a range of weapons from silver knives (she claimed they were the best for 'demons'), elemental spheres (any government event being held at that minute) and good old, fashioned steel knives (for the more…humane adversary). The other girl had mentioned a compass-like instrument but had elaborated no further and a knife, to which she had given the title 'the Subtle Knife', an object which, she informed them, made all other weapons look like toys. For children of three and down. (No-one noticed the midnight-clad boy shift uncomfortably at this rest his hand on something at his waist briefly, but he did).

Mid-way through this discussion, the white-haired boy who had ignored them so far decided that they needed his expert opinion. Drawing a slim stick from his pocket, he interrupted the debate of swords versus knives and waved the stick about the air.

"Of course, you're all wrong. This has to be by far the best weapon invented, in my esteemed opinion."

They went quiet and looked at him coldly.

"And who," the owner of the cat asked, icicles dripping from every word "are you?"

He looked at her, disdain clear in his face and voice "I'm Draco Malfoy, heir of the great family of Malfoy and youngest member of that family. And who," he asked in turn, looking her up and down scornfully "are _you_?"

She immediately identified him as her arch-nemesis "My name is Lyra Belacqua, also known as Lyra Silvertongue and only daughter and heir to Lord Asriel."

He sniffed and looked away "I have never heard of him, he must be a lesser Lord of no importance."

Our dark-haired friend flared up at that one "And who are you to be judging that?" she asked heatedly.

He cast her a side-ways look of pure poison "Keep out of this _commoner_."

It shall never be known exactly why this provoked such a reaction (unless you are clever and have read her book), but reaction it did provoke. On an astronomical scale.

She gasped and slapped him hard around the face. He reeled backwards and then muttered a few words under his breath.

A bright, violet light hit her full in the chest and caused her to double up, gasping for breath. She pulled her hands away from her stomach to see little green, fungus-like growths sprouting all over them. She shouted, enraged and leapt on top of him, pummelling and scratching like a wildcat. He struggled for a moment and then straightened, causing her to fall to the floor.

She leapt, he spoke. Bright red light filled the compartment. Then, came silence.

* * *

It was afterwards agreed that it was not her fault. The fact that the wand had been pointing towards her as she leapt, but was then twisted as she landed on him, was 'a mere accident' in the words of the witnesses. She had no idea of the spell that the wand contained, no blame could be put on her. 

But that did not alter the consequences, which, when the red smoke cleared and the passengers could see again, caused Lyra to turn pale and stagger outside, the midnight-clad boy to put a hand over his mouth and the bird on his shoulder to take flight and change (not that anyone noticed at the time) into a small puppy with it's tail between it's legs.

The other boy, having more presence of mind, perhaps, than his companions, stuck his head outside the door and hollered for help. Which came speedily.

If they had been on any other carriage, they would have been fine. But this happened to be the first-year one and hence was full of students inexperienced in the ways of Sumach. It also happened that the only people who had the chance of helping them were at the other end and so did not hear the shout. But others did.

The hobbits, who had been conversing on the topic of sweet versus savoury, burst out of their compartment and raced to the origin of the shouts. The elf, after due deliberation, followed them.

They reached Compartment Number Five and saw the problem too quickly to be warned away. They all turned differing shades of green and were suddenly, for the first time in their lives, glad that they had not recently eaten. Legolas, hurrying behind them, was screened from the nauseating sight by the bodies blocking the door and was so saved from the view.

The beautiful elf-maiden and the others in Compartment 4 heard the shout and, the sound being that of a fellow human being in trouble, they also ran to the scene. Some (the elf-maiden, the dark man who had been sitting with her) were tall enough to see over the heads and to the boy lying on the ground…if you could call him a boy in his present state.

They, thankfully, did not turn any colour except, perhaps, a few shades whiter than they normally were. The dark man, ever the leader, pushed through and knelt down beside the fallen body, the elf following him.

"What happened?" he asked of the occupants of No. 5, sharply.

They gave him a brief sketch of the events that had led up to the fight and the cause of Draco's…inconvenience.

"…and then there was a bright red light and all this smoke filled the compartment. When it cleared we found him like…this," the boy who had shouted finished.

"There is nothing I can do for him." The elf whispered to the man "This is a different magic to mine."

"I find myself in the same situation," he replied, glancing over the shuddering body "Perhaps there is someone else, here, who can?"

She gave him and brief nod, before turning and instructing the hobbits to take the message to the far compartments, whose occupant's had not heard the shouting.

So it was that two seconds later, the relative peace (and door) of Compartment 3 was shattered by two small figures of a faint green colour.

They gasped out their message to those sitting there and after a round of voices voicing their disbelief, they replied that no, they had no-one who could help. They all left to see the casualty and the hobbits burst in on a scene of much noise and confusion in Compartment Number One.

The argument had continued to the point of Arabic and the snores (and smell) of the person in the corner were overwhelming. Added to that two male magicians arguing over some obscure rule in Quidditch, a minor fire on the seat of the fire-eater and a pile of books having mysteriously appeared in the middle of the floor and the scene in Compartment One rivalled that of 5 several minutes previously.

It quietened, however, when the hobbits relayed their message and there was the same disbelief and disgust as was in 2. But this time, the answer to the message they brought, was yes.

* * *

She didn't agree quietly. 

"But it's only Malfoy," Hermione protested as she was escorted down the aisle "He can last until we reach the school. Might even do him good. It should teach him to value others for once, not just himself. Oh Harry, Ron, do I _have_ to?"

The answer to this question was a shove through the door of Compartment Five. She recovered herself, fussily straightened her robes and knelt down beside the stretched out form on the floor. She regarded it distastefully, pretending not to be aware of the tension of the others behind her.

"Can you cure him?" the dark man asked anxiously as she neared completion of her examination.

She looked at him for a minute and then called to the people gathered around the door.

"Anyone have a camera?"

There followed some movement and confusion, but eventually, a mobile phone and two cameras were passed into her hands. The onlookers looked confused, all except Harry and Ron, both of whom had large grins on their faces.

Hermione took several photos from every angle on every photographic device she could find. It took some minutes and eventually, the man grew impatient.

"What is the purpose of all this?"

She looked at him again "What is your name?" she asked.

He looked taken aback "Aragorn, son of Arathorn. Why?"

She shrugged "No reason." She took seven more photos and then handed the cameras, phones and other photographic devices back to their respective owners. She looked around one last time "Do you _really_ want me to cure him?"

The answer came back as many impatient sighs and hissed "_Yes!"_es. She sighed resignedly, rolled up her sleeves, picked up her wand, took one last, long look at Malfoy and then flicked her wand at the prone form.

"_Guerisse_!" she proclaimed in a loud, clear voice. There was a rushing sound, a flash of blue light, and Draco Malfoy lay sprawled out across the floor. He flicked a hate-laden glance at the girl who he had insulted and made to leap at her, but was halted by a waved wand and the words "_Petrificus Totalus!"_. Et voila, Draco Malfoy now resembled an ironing board. Hermione lowered her wand with a satisfied smirk and gave a little bow in reply to the claps and cheers. She exited, making those on whose device she had captured the image of Draco promise her to give her every copy of the finished picture, and telling Lyra in a low voice "Five minutes before we're there just give me a call and I'll unfreeze him."

And for the rest of the journey, Hermione crowed over her victory over Malfoy. She couldn't wait until those pictures were developed.

* * *

"We shall be arriving at Sumach School in ten minutes," a disembodied voice called through the train. "Please could all students who have not already done so, dress themselves in their school uniform. First-years are asked to wait on the station platform for a guide to take them to the school. Have a nice day!" 

The first-year compartments were filled with the flurry of changing forms. Those girls who shared a compartment with boys and had not yet changed exited and found one where boys had not entered. The same scenario was observed with boys.

Soon, the compartments were split; either they were full of girls or boys, all changing. Soon, individuals began to emerge in all their finery. Aragorn had dressed himself in practical black and dark green attire, whilst the others who had shared his compartment had colours ranging from dun brown to dark red.

As for the girls; Hermione had gone for the dress option and was dressed in a mid-length gown of a light blue hue. The dark haired girl who had been insulted by Draco had introduced herself as Kitty Jones and had opted for the tunic and trousers. Her chosen colours were pale yellow and light green.

Five minutes from the School, Hermione returned and freed Draco from the body-bind spell. She kept her wand trained on him all throughout his changing and did not spare his blushes. From his dark expression and narrowed eyes, it was clear that she had found a new worst enemy, but, in her newfound spirit of recklessness, Hermione found she didn't care.

It was dark when the train finally shuddered into Sumach station. The older years piled off with much noise, laughter and shouting. They carried their baggage with them as they took a path that wound its way into the darkness and was lost from sight.

The first-years clustered in a tight bunch, whispering nervously to each other. They nearly jumped out of their skins as a soft voice addressed them from the darkness.

"Welcome, first-years. I hope you had a pleasant journey?"

A white figure emerged from the blackness surrounding them; the form of a lady could be discerned amid the ethereal glow that surrounded her.

She smiled in a gentle, motherly fashion and beckoned to them to follow her. Talking nervously, they did.

The path they followed was wide enough to allow them to walk four-abreast, with the White Lady at the front. Tall black trees hid everything from view and so, when they reached the top of the hill and reached the clear land, they are awed by the sight in front of them.

It was a massive manor house or castle, rearing up from the cliffside like a proud and noble lady. It was lit by thousands of tiny points of light that blazed from windows and parapets. Lanterns showed where the upper school were making their way into the castle, so far away, yet so close and they held their breath as the beauty of it swept over them.

Lady Galadriel turned and smiled at them "Welcome to Sumach School my dears," she said.

**End of Chapter One **


	3. Roast potatoes and Cream

**Authroresses Note: Hey! We're back! With a new chapter! Missed us?**

**So, here is the arrival of our characters to the School. Forgive the sudden burst of hyperness, further on down the page, but hey, it had to be done. Now, we need one more female character, so if you know of one from a TV show, film book or play/musical that you would like to see, then include it in your review. Bear in mind that I am English. Here is Emily come to talk to you.**

'Well, hello, I appear to be Emily, and for some odd reason my dearest buddy Tessa has got me writing a crazy message to all you loon-balloons out there. This story is velly velly good, and all of yous should read it otherwise I shall find my winged monkeys and set them on you. They're very polite, though. Anyhoodles, this story if true genius, and I suggest you read it. My God, is that a banana drinking tea? I must dash, toodle-pip y'all. READ IT!'

**Disclaimer: **Wow, imagine how rich we'd be if we actually DID own all these characters.

* * *

**Roast Potatoes and Messages from the Heads**

_In which we meet four new charcters and a cream pie fight ensues_

They walked along the path to th e school in silence, each occupied with their own thoughts.

Draco's were black and filled with anger and revenge. That filthy Mudblood dared to freeze him, Draco Malfoy? And that commoner, that _Kitty Jones_. It had been all _her _fault. He had ended up disgraced in front of all the others in his year, whom he knew he was well above. They would all remember this now. They would whisper and talk and tell others in the School. And then everyone in the School would know!

Oh he would get back at them, even if it took all year.

Aragorn was up at the front, along-side Arwen. His thoughts were ones of bewilderment and wonder. He still didn't know what had caused that boy to turn into that…that…_thing,_ or how the girl had managed to turn him back. They must both be very powerful; he would have to watch them…

And the _School_. The School was beautiful. So big and grand and majestic. He wondered who their teachers would be and what their lessons would be like, who would succeed in what subject ad who would fail…

Arwen, beside him, was occupied with thoughts on her fellow classmates. The four little ones, the Hobbits, looked rather sweet and were very funny and charming. In contrast, the boy who had been hit by the spell, Malfoy, was a thoroughly unpleasant piece of work. She had no particular views, as yet, on Hermione, past the fact that she seemed nice. And as for Aragorn…she glanced up at his face, recalling their conversation during the journey. She couldn't remember exactly what they had _talked_ about, but it must have been pretty fascinating. The conversations had been pretty intense, from what she could remember.

Aragorn was…nice. Very...nice.

Hermione's thoughts were all of Draco and his brill- erm, _hideous, horrible, disgusting _transformation. It had been very funny, she was _so _glad she had taken photos.

Meggie seemed nice too. Though fancy finding the works of Shakespeare boring! She could see she had a lot of work to do here.

Ron's thoughts were mainly on the upcoming feast in the School. He glanced at Hermione. The glint of firelight on her hair did highlight it very prettily…

Kitty Jones was walking at the back with the girls from her carriage (Lyra, the one who had introduced herself as Elizabeth and the girl with brightly coloured hair, Georgia). Her thoughts were also on Draco Malfoy's transformation. She had to admit, it was very funny, but the comic side of it faded as she realised with a shiver that it was meant to have happened to _her. _If it had, she wondered, would she have been changed back? How would events have panned out differently?

Two of the Hobbits, Merry and Pippin, were thinking solely about how hungry they were and hoping there would be food when they got to the School. Their arms were also aching from dragging the heavy cases around, but as long as there was food at the end, they would never be heard complaining.

And so the first-years came to Sumach School for Secondary Characters.

As they stepped inside the large entrance hall, they were hit by a wall of noise coming from an open door to their right. Delectable cooking smells wafted out of the room with the noise, but before any hungry students could dash inside and stuff their little faces, Galadriel began to speak.

"Now first-years, pile all your luggage _neatly_ to the side against the wall to be collected later.

After the feast you are to report to Professor McGonagall who will assign your dormitory, bed, locker and give you your timetable. You shall know who she is after the feast. Thank you. Have a nice meal my dears."

There was a flurry of noise and motion as the first-years, with varying degrees of enthusiasm, placed their cases or trunks against the wall and entered. Some (Ron, the Hobbits) flung their luggage vaguely in the wall's direction and dashed in, anxious to eat. Others (Hermione, Arwen, Legolas) placed their cases neatly against the wall and swept in (the elves with effect, Hermione with none).

The layout of the Hall now needs explaining, to avoid mass confusion.

The tables were arranged so that they ran widthways across the Hall. The teachers sat at the back, on a raised platform on a long, rectangular table. The first-year table was like the teacher's, the only difference being that they were not important enough to have the raised platform.

The second-years, however, had two tables, in the shape of large semi-circles. Behind them was situated the long oval-shaped third-year table.

The fourth-year had seven vaguely rectangular-shaped tables, each sitting seven people.

Two ovals made up the fifth-year tables, much more exciting than the sixth-year's two plain rectangular-shaped ones.

Finally, the seventh-year tables stood before the teacher's. They were circular in shape, each sitting a comfortable four. Evidently, not everyone stayed until their last year. Legolas later enquired as to why and was answered 'Well, for a variety of reasons, but most of them get killed.' None of the first-years knew what this meant and eventually dismissed it as fourth-year stories. Oh how little they know.

And now, back to the feast.

As the first-years entered, they noticed several things. Firstly; the strange layout, second; the thousands of pairs of eyes (the rest of the school) trained on them and thirdly; that there were four people already seated at the first-year table.

Two, a boy and a girl, were similar in appearance and clothing, both having chosen tunic. The boy wore black, the girl a simple leaf-green and gold embroidery style. Oh and both had wings. They also spoke with American accents, something that would drive their classmates to distraction but, unfortunately, it was something they could not help.

The others were a boy and a dragon. The boy was wearing the tunic option and his colours were red and gold.

Only the fact that they were prepared for strange beings saved the first-years from gaping in awe at the newcomers. As it was, they tried to sit as normally as possible, but therein lay a problem.

The seating arrangement.

The older-years looked on benevolently and recalled their first feast fondly as they watched the new students fumble for places.

Aragorn and Arwen took the first two places, the ones closest to the door at the left end and both sat down calmly. The girl with violet eyes and chestnut curls (Arianna) sat next to Arwen. She seemed tight-lipped and sent small glares in the elf's direction when she wasn't looking.

Kitty Joes pulled out the chair next to Arianna and coughed politely.

"Can I sit here?" she enquired and Arianna, her attention off the turned back of Arwen (who was again involved in a close, intense discussion with Aragorn) smiled and nodded.

The girl Arianna had shared the train journey with, Éowyn, strolled up to see that the seat next to Arianna was taken. She shrugged and seated herself next to Kitty.

Places were quickly taken and hurried introductions were exchanged. Some already knew each other; others did not and so there was an outburst of whispers which gradually settled down and were cut short when a tall, sharp-looking woman with what looked suspiciously like a witch's hat perched on the top of her head, stood. She surveyed the assembled students solemnly and began to speak. Her voice carried a Scottish accent; crisp and precise.

"Welcome to a new year at Sumach Secondary School. The Headmistresses are unable to attend this evening and send their warmest welcomes. They also inform Mr Bond that they have this year Proofed all of the cupboards. They say that they dare him to find an openable one." There was much smothered giggling from the fifth-year table at this announcement, which the woman delivered with an expression of stern disapproval.

"And now our first-years. I am called Professor McGonagall and shall be your Head of Year this year. We would like to inform you that the swimming-pool is out-of-bounds unless with staff permission and that all weaponry, be it swords, guns, knives, ultra-hyper-space-warp timers or screwdrivers," again much smothered giggling from the upper years. The teachers also seemed amused and all peered down to one, a young man in a brown pinstriped suit who was, at that moment, wearing an expression of mock outrage.

"...is banned." The woman finished, entirely unaware of the effect she had caused.

The first-years were stunned at this announcement. Eowyn looked shocked, Aragorn looked mutinous, the guy who had spent the entire journey with a murderous sword hanging over his head looked wrathful and the guy who persisted in wearing a pirate's hat firmly on his head, staggered when he walked and insisted that everyone called him 'Captain Jack Sparrow' looked very indignant. He was clearly heard to comment, in a world-weary voice, as Professor McGonagall proceeded onto other matters "It's as if they don't _trust us_."

"….that is all for now, I hope you enjoy the feast." The Professor sat down and an outburst of chatter engulfed the Great Hall as the sound of ringing cutlery, chinking glasses and hungry chewing fought for top position as the loudest noise.

The feast was sumptuous. Sunday roast seemed to be the main theme, with steaming chickens, crispy roast and soft boiled potatoes, both with melted butter oozing down them, honey-coloured Yorkshire-puddings and bowls of fresh peas, sweetcorn, runner beans and (for some strange reason as they aren't actually vegetables at all, but fruit) tomatoes were situated every couple of chairs.

Giant gravy boats filled with that thick, piping hot liquid and dozens of little bowls filled with bread sauce were dotted over the tables as well.

For the vegetarians, there were fresh, crisp green salads with bright red tomatoes and rocket, potato salads and mountains of roast vegetables, in which they dug in readily, for they were not the normal, half-cooked mostly-raw ones that were normally served up at school, but sweet and tender. It was utterly divine.

Hermione, ever the polite one, turned to the tall, girly-looking blonde elf sitting next to her, glowering at the table.

"Good evening. I am called Hermione Granger, what is your name?"

The elf raised his eyes slowly upwards and regarded her haughtily "I am named Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood," he said, tossing his hair proudly.

Hermione did not know what to say to that, so she just muttered a something under her breath and turned back to Meggie.

On the other side of the table, the boy with blue and silver clothes turned to the one next to him. "Hi, I'm Will," he introduced himself. The other was silent for a while and then laughed "That's my name as well." That was as much an ice-breaker as they needed and were soon conversing along the topics of weapons (a great favourite, it seemed, among the male half of the first-year students.)

A couple of spaces along from the two Wills, The boy with the dragon and Alex were regarding each other warily. On the-boy-with-the-dragon's part, it was just the usual male testosterone-ness that prompted this, but for Alex, it was a matter of genuine concern. The dragon looked lethal.

"She doesn't like that." Alex looked around sharply as the other spoke. "She says she is called Saphira and tells us to stop glaring at each other and introduce ourselves. I'm Eragon."

Alex blinked "I'm called Alex Rider," he said "You can hear my _thoughts_?"

Eragon smiled "Yep."

"And talk to…to Saphira?"

She snorted softly.

"You can talk to her directly, you know, she won't hurt you," Eragon told him.

Saphira looked around with wide, innocent eyes, that seemed to say 'Me? How could you suspect me of such a thing?' They both laughed and the tension was broken.

On the other side of the table, the fire-eater, the pirate and the Egyptian were having a loud, boisterous conversation about the distrust of the staff of the students. Well, maybe _conversation _is not the right word for it. More of a shouting match, with each of them (especially Jack Sparrow) inexplicably getting drunker and drunker, even though the only drinks being served were water and a strange amber liquid which reminded one of Halloween.

The fire-eater turned to the two sitting next to him and said, conversationally "So, you have _wings_."

"Yes," the boy replied, simply.

This didn't seem to deter the man from conversation "Wow. To be able to fly. I mean, I can be invisible but _flying_" he looked dreamy for a moment and then said "So, anyway, what are your names?"

They glanced at each other.

"Max," said the girl.

"Fang," said the boy.

Now the man seemed slightly more aware of their wish not to talk to him "Erm, right. Well, I'm called Dustfinger and…I'll see you later then." He turned back to his nosier companions.

The boy who had accompanied the girl with violet eyes in Compartment 5 was sitting next to three of the males from Compartment 3. He seemed quiet and insubstantial and kept himself to himself, but were you to watch him; you would see eyes bright with interest and curiosity. He was, at that moment occupied with listening to the conversation next to him. It wasn't _eavesdropping _exactly (as the famous saying goes 'I weren't dropping no eaves sir, honest') but more of a distraction from boredom.

"So, anyway," one was saying to the others "I swung at him with my sword. See, I knew he would jump to the right, so I was positioned jus so that when he did, I would come at him from that direction suddenly and I-" he paused, frowning "Faramir, are you listening?"

The person he was speaking to glanced around guiltily and flushed (I would say he blushed, but as we all know, men don't _blush_).

"Of course I was, Boromir. I had just…drifted away for a minute."

"He was staring at that group of girls over there, the one including my _sister_," the other involved in the conversation said, pointing at the opposite corner of the table. Faramir blush- sorry, _flushed_ again and yanked the other's arm down.

"Don't _point_, Éomer," he hissed and then, noting them both staring at him with amused expressions on their faces, mumbled "It's rude."

"What do you think, Éomer," Boromir said speculatively, picking up a nearby tomato "Exactly the same shade, or a bit darker?"

"No, no, much brighter. I'm surprised no-one staring. You would definitely see it from the other side of the room."

They both laughed as the thouroughly embarressed Faramir buried the face in question into a large napkin.

* * *

Finally, about an hour later, after puddings had been consumed and the pupils begun to notice how tired they really were, the plates were cleared away and a new atmosphere pervaded the hall. Noticing the looks of resignation on the faces of the teachers (or amusement, in some cases) and the excitement building up in the pupils, Merry nudged Pippin and said "What d'you think's going on?" 

"SHHHH!" came the loud reply from the second-year table and, thouroughly chastised, the first –year table fell silent, as all the other years had done.

Now there was complete and absolute silence in the hall. First-years looked at each other in confusion and teachers looked at each other in apprehension.

"Ding, ding, ding!" The notes echoed throughout the hall, each higher than the other. A large, rather shiny bubble popped into existence in the middle of the hall, floating above the fourth-years table. From the bubble came a chorus of cheery voices; "Hello campers!"

This announcement elicited cheering and calpping from the older students and much excited whispering. Among the phrases the first-years heard were 'Bugsey Malone', 'cream pies' and 'water guns'.

It does not take a bear of very little brain to guess what would happen next.

"Do your work, bring homework on time and adhere to the rules, yadda, yadda, yadda," the bubble said "But for now, we are bored and have just watched Bugsey Malone. And you all know what that means…"

"CREAM FIGHT!"

* * *

If you have never got into a cream fight, or even a water fight, then all I can say is; poor, poor you. 

See, there is a tradition at Sumach School, whereby, at the end of each start of year feast, a large bubble appears somewhere in midair and delivers a message from the Headmistresses. Traditionally, this massage is short, because, traditionally, some form of food fight ensues afterwards. The origins of this tradition are obscure and not something I shall go now because, quite frankly, they are rather boring.

So, back to the cream pie/water fight.

The reactions of the first-years were varied and vastly amusing. The Egyptian boy yelled something that sounded like a war cry in an obscure language and grabbed the nearest cream-filled weapon he could get his hands on.

Captain Jack Sparrow blinked, then followed the boy's actions, whooping and whirling his chosen weapon above his head. It might have been rather frightening if the said weapon hadn't been a plastic water gun. But hey, he was enjoying himself.

Hermione immediately grabbed her wand and cast some sort of shield around herself and Meggie. This meant that they could hurl as many cream pies as they wanted, but not get touched themselves. Which, all things considered, is a rather clever idea.

Legolas screamed a scream definitely reminiscent to something someone of the opposite sex would emit and gabbled something about hair and being messed up. However, this ended when a pie thrown with fantastic aim hit him on the side of the face. All thoughts of hair forgotten, he grabbed a missile of his own and aimed it at the culprit, who happened to be one of the hobbits. They retaliated with a four-pronged attack which trapped in the middle of the four, being pelted at from all sides.

The fight continued in this same vain for some while, until Professor McGonagall decided that she had had enough. This might have had something to do with the cream clinging to the side of her face and hat or it might have simply been that she had grown bored.

Whatever her reason, she raised her hands and all cream and water in the hall disappeared. The students blinked, looking down at their now-clean clothes and grinning hugely.

"Thank you students," the good professor said dryly "Now it is time for bed. Goodnight. First-year students come to me for allocation of dorms, beds and timetables."

The laughing crowd of higher years slowly dwindled as they drifted though the door and up the stairs. This left the first-years in a crowd around Professor McGonagall, who had descended from the staff table. Her colleagues had long since left through a door situated behind the staff table.

"Now, I will call your name and you shall come forward to receive your room, bed and timetable. You will then go to the Outer Hall and collect your luggage. You will find a map there as well.

Frodo Baggins?"

Frodo stepped forward.

"Bed 4 of Boys Dorm 1." She passed him a timetable and glanced back at her sheet.

"Bartimaeus."

The Egyptian boy strolled to the spot in front of her.

"Bed 9 of Boy's Dorm 1."

And so it went on. It was learnt that there were twice as many boys than girls and do the boys had two dormitories, while the girls only had one. This decision could be good, or bad, depending on which student you talked to. However, the general consensus was that it was good, though some were excepted from this decision.

They all moved out of the hall after they had collected their timetables. Some were too tired to care and just stuffed it into a bag until tomorrow. Hermione and Meggie, predictably, were not of this opinion and were discussing the merits of each subject. As they passed him, Ron was heard to mutter "Y'know, I don't think they're human. I think they're robots devised to make us feel guilty about not doing homework and taking extra options."

The dorms were on the second floor. The two boy's dorms, it was discovered, were decorated in white and blue, with the same colour bed sheets and covers. Each person has their own, separate bed, with a small table with drawers next to it. On the other side was a tall wardrobe, with space to put both clothes and possessions. Each bed had railing around and curtain-like contraption, identical to a hospital bed, which allowed the occupant to have some privacy.

A door at the end of the room opened to reveal shower and cubicles, toilets and sinks, enough for there to be no crush in the morning.

The girl's dorm had the same layout, except for the fact that the colour scheme was soft red and white. The red was soft enough for those with suspicious minds to call the colour pink, but, thankfully, no-one at that moment really cared. They washed, changed and climbed into bed. There little chatter, and when it was, it was quiet and subdued.

Gradually, they all began to drift off to sleep. The rooms and school became dark and peaceful. Nothing moved.

Except the three dark shapes that moved from room to room, dorm to dorm, opening doors quietly and peering in for considerable minutes. They said nothing and made no sound.

Eventually, they reached the end of the dorms. They stood, conversing quietly for a few minutes. Then, they moved back and disappeared into the darkness and Sumach School for Secondary Characters was silent once more.

**You've read, so now REVIEW. **


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